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Burr Junior, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 34 |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR It required some strength of mind to go straight to the Doctor's study next morning, tell him the whole truth, and ask for his forgiveness. But we did it, and though he looked very serious, and pointed out our wrong-doing strongly, he forgave us, and became deeply interested in the affair, making us relate all we had seen. "I heard of the encounter as soon as I came down," he said. "Lomax ought to have sent you both back to your room. So it was that labourer. Poor fellow! I gave him a fresh chance twice over, but I'm afraid he is a ne'er-do-weel. However, he is severely punished now." The man Lomax knocked down went before the magistrates, and was packed off to prison, but Magglin had to go up to London, to one of the great hospitals, and some months after, the chief magistrate in our district, that is to say, General Sir Hawkhurst Rye, had him up before him in his library, and punished him. Bob Hopley told me all about it, just after he had announced, with a good many grins and winks, that Polly was--"Going to be married to master's favourite groom, and they're to live at Number 2 lodge." "And how did he punish him, Bob?" Mercer said eagerly. "Punished him, sir? why, he's took him on as a watcher under me. Says poachers make the best keepers; but, o' course, he can't never be a keeper, with only one arm." "Ah," I said thoughtfully, "you said he would lose his arm." "Yes, sir, and they took it off pretty close. But there, I think he'll mend now." My story, (or rather my random notes), of my old school-days is pretty well ended now, though I could rake out a good deal more from the dark corners of my memory. For, after that adventure in the wood, the time soon seemed to come when Tom Mercer had to leave, to begin his course of training for a surgeon, while I was bound for Woolwich, to become a cadet. It was a sad day for me when I first went to "Old Browne's," but it was a sadder day when I left, for I felt very sore at heart, and it required all my strength of mind to keep up a brave show. For every one was very kind, and it was like parting from old friends whom I might never see again. The boys were all out in the front drive, where the General's carriage stood waiting to take me and my mother to meet the London mail coach, and the two gentlemen were with us. For my mother and my uncle had come down to fetch me, and say a few kind words to the Doctor and Mrs Doctor, as well as to visit Sir Hawkhurst. I saw Lomax too, and Mr Rebble and Mr Hasnip, at the door, and it seemed as if there was always some one fresh to shake hands with, the old sergeant shaking mine with both his, and his voice sounded very husky as he said,-- "You won't forget your drill, sir, nor your balance in the saddle; heels well down, and ride your horse on the curb, mind--don't forget, and-- and--" The old fellow could get no further. The tears started to his eyes, and to hide his emotion, and to save me from breaking down, he drew himself up stiffly and saluted me. Lastly, I found that the servants were all outside too, waiting to say good-bye, and I couldn't go without stepping aside to shake hands with Cook, who uttered a loud sob, snatched me to her, and gave me a sounding kiss. Then I was back on the steps saying my farewells to the Doctor and his wife, and I felt that I had bade every one now good-bye but Tom Mercer, who was to leave the following day, but, to my intense disappointment, he was missing; and, time pressing, I was at last obliged to climb into the britzska, where my mother, my uncle, and the General were already seated, the word was given, the coachman touched his horses as soon as the groom had climbed to his side, and the boys nearly frightened them into a headlong gallop, as they burst out into a volley of cheers, mingled with, "Good-bye, Burr junior! Good luck to you, soldier!" and amidst the waving of caps from the lads, and handkerchiefs from the door, I stood up in the carriage and roared excitedly,-- "Where's old Senna?" I faintly heard the words, "Don't know," and I stood looking about wildly, full of bitter disappointment at leaving without seeing him. I was standing up at the back, where my mother had the other seat, the two old officers being before us, but there was no Tom Mercer, and I was about to sit down, feeling that the poor fellow could not face the farewell, when, at the turn of the road, there on the bank stood Polly Hopley, with a parcel in one hand and a bunch of flowers in the other, and beside her, Bob Hopley in his brown velveteens, his gun under his left arm and his hat in his hand. As we trotted by, the parcel and bouquet fell into the carriage, and I waved my hand back to them till we were out of sight, when I found that my mother was holding the flowers, which had her name on a label like that used with a doctor's bottle, while the parcel was directed to me. I couldn't help my face working as I looked from one to the other. "Cheer up, my lad," cried the General, as my mother pressed my hand, for I had sunk down beside her on the seat. "Of course he will," cried my uncle; "soldiers cheer up directly. I say, Frank, the Doctor gave you a splendid character, but it wasn't wanted. Your popularity staggers me." "But I haven't seen poor old Senna," I cried. "Seen whom?" said my uncle, laughing. "Poor old Tom Mercer," I cried, when a hand from the back knocked my cap over my eyes, and a familiar voice shouted,-- "'Bye, Frankie. Hooray! 'ray! 'ray! 'ray!" There was Tom Mercer's face looking at us over the hood at the back, for he had darted out from the hedge as the carriage passed the corner half a mile from the school, climbed up behind, and was holding on with one hand as he clutched at me with the other. Then quickly--nay, more quickly than it has taken me to tell it--he let go and dropped down into the road, where I could see him standing waving his cap till a curve hid him from sight; and I once more sank into my place too low-spirited to think, for my happy school-days were at an end, and there before me in the dim distance, toward which I was being hurried fast as two good mares could trot, was the great gateway of a fresh life, through which lay the road to be followed in my progress to become a soldier and a man. [THE END] _ |
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